Together
by LadyintheAttic
Summary: Whatever happens in this house, it's probably because of genetics. (Brief's family drabbles.)
1. Newcomer

Trunks Briefs was not pleased to say the least.

The beginning of the whole "your mother is pregnant" affair wasn't so bad he supposed. After all, it had meant someone to play with, someone to protect, someone to help cure the odd sense of loneliness he felt when he wasn't around his younger friend Goten (which sadly was often due to the Son family living so far away in the mountains). But after the exciting news of the pregnancy, it all seemed to go downhill from there; at least from the lavender-haired boy's point of view.

As it turned out that carrying a baby inside your belly for months as it grew in size was hard on a woman, and Trunks soon felt that he was being informed of this daily. The aches and pains of the pregnancy were frequent, and Trunks began to wonder if it was really worth the trouble. After all, they already had an _amazing_ kid; there was no need for his mother to go through all this discomfort right?

He was only truly frightened by the prospect of his mother being in pain when in her later months of pregnancy he was rudely awoken by his father at the dead of night, only to be informed that they needed to take a quick trip to the hospital. That "quick trip" lasted for several hours, and even then Bulma stayed in the patient's bed for the rest of the day "just to be safe". Neither she, nor the boy's father explained to him the problem. They only said that it was "just a scare".

Then came the ultrasound.

Trunks had been hoping, _praying_, for the baby to be a boy. He wanted so badly to be like Gohan; an amazing older brother helping to train a younger pupil. He even made his dad promise that he would let him help with the training of the child if it happened to be a boy. Vegeta agreed, but gave an annoyed snort at the conditions of the training. "Boy, the child will be trained no matter the gender. On planet Vegeta the woman were just as adept as men at fighting, and were only less frequent on the field of battle due to them birthing children."

Trunks nodded in understanding, but still hoped for a boy.

It was a girl.

* * *

"Hey boys." Bulma smiled tiredly up at her husband and son, a small infant wriggling in her arms. "Who want's to meet the newest member of the family?"

The two males slowly crept into the room, neither of them very sure what to do. Vegeta himself had not been present for Trunks's birth, and was unsure what the protocol was on infant babies. Trunks was trying to follow his fathers lead, only to find that Vegeta was just as lost on what to do.

Seeing their discomfort, Bulma laughed mockingly. "Oh come on you dorks! Come say hi to Bra."

Finally making his way to the edge of the crisp clean sheets of the hospital bed, Trunks peered into his mother's arms. The baby was very small; much smaller than he thought she would be. She had a small, odd looking face, bright blue eyes and the smallest amount of blue hair sprouting from the top of her head. Staring at the strange looking creature, it suddenly occurred to him that he would not be playing with his little sibling any time soon.

Trunks sighed lightly, then jumped in surprise as he took notice of his father planting a deep kiss onto his mothers smiling lips. "Ewwww! Dad stop, that's so gross!"

The prince of all Saiyans took a moment to compose himself before ruffling his son's hair aggressively. "Can it, boy."

"Welllll," Bulma shifted her weight to bring the infant girl closer to her father and brother. "What do you think? She's a good deal smaller than you were when you were a baby Trunks, which is strange considering how much harder this pregnancy was."

Vegeta growled. "Not only has she got your hair woman, she like a little 'Bulma clone'. Not Saiyan looking at all. Why is it that all our children get _your_ family's odd coloring?" Trunks and his mother knew that Vegeta was only pretending to be annoyed. It was his way of masking his happiness really. He had gotten a lot better at being a dad in those last few years after the Buu fiasco, and he honestly couldn't care less about the hair or eye color of his new infant daughter.

Bulma rolled her eyes at her huband. "What do you think Trunks? She's quite the beauty isn't she?"

Trunks raised his eyebrow at the blue haired baby. "Babies sure do look funny don't they dad?"

Bulma's eyes widened as she gasped. "_Trunks!_"

"They sure do, son."

"_Vegeta!_"

* * *

After the exciting birth of the newest member of the family, Trunks had hoped that everything in his household would return to normal. It did not. A few things did; Vegeta was now no longer stressed about his wife's well being and returned most of his attention on training his young son, and therefore Trunks's time in the gravity room was nearly doubled. The lavender-haired boy was not fooled however; he knew that most of the time spent in the gravity room was now a retreat from the crying and screaming of his new little sister.

As he was informed by his father, Trunks was very much a quiet child when he was a baby. In fact it was a little cause of concern to Vegeta and Bulma that he didn't cry nearly enough, and they had worried that he was sick somehow. Most saiyan children were quite loud, and were kept in chambers with sound-proof walls when they were only just born. Despite this oddity about him, Trunks was quickly told that it turned out to be nothing, because Trunks had grown up so much stronger than most saiyan children would have.

Bra was not like her brother. Not at all.

She screamed and cried for most of the time she was awake, or at least Trunks thought so. He was awoken often in the dead of night to the sound of screaming and his mother trying to comfort the infant. The two saiyan princes however had no idea how to comfort infants, though Vegeta did try sometimes. So to the _almost_ sound-proof gravity room the two boys retreated, though even with their saiyan hearing they could still pick up the whines and cries of the princess.

"She is such a pain!" Trunks growled, letting himself fall to the floor of the gravity room and pressing his hands against his sensitive ears. "How could one little baby make so much noise?!"

His father peeled off his sweaty gloves, oddly calm despite the intense pain shooting from one of his ears to the other. "It's just how babies are Trunks. We just aren't used to it."

Trunks pouted and folded his arms in aggravation. "Well I doubt I'll ever get used to this. From watching Gohan and Goten I never thought that having a sibling was a bad thing."

"It isn't."

"It is so far."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and gave Trunks a light kick in the side. "I don't think you know how lucky you are boy. Having a little sister is something that no one in the royal family has experienced for generations. Girls are almost never born into the royal bloodline, and there never was one that has such a strong older brother as she does."

His son rolled over and gaped at his dad. It was true that his father had been oddly soft and gentle since the new baby had arrived, but this was something extraordinary in his eyes. Vegeta? handing out compliments?

Vegeta padded towards the door before pulling it open and locking eyes with is surprised son. "You will take care of her, right?"

Trunks swallowed. "Uh, yeah. Of course."

"Good."

* * *

At the side of the crib, Trunks pondered his fathers words. _'It's so creepy when he gets all serious.'_

As though awoken his thoughts, out came a cry from Bra. It was a weird scream-y spittle-y sort of sound that was enough to make Trunks cringe. Finally standing up on his tiptoes he looked down at her, a fat, fussy little creature that made the poor saiyan boy wish to be deaf. He frowned at her. _'Why is she fussing? Does she need attention all the time?'_

Rolling his eyes, Trunks reached down into the crib, looking to pat her head or something of the like in an attempt to keep the quiet. "Will you shut up? You're going to make my ears-"

Before he got the chance to attempt comforting her, Bra's little hand shot up from her mouth and gabbed hold of Trunks's index-finger, finally quieting down and staring up at her elder brother with interest. Trunks was so surprised that he forgot what he was saying, and stood silent as her blue eyes peered up at him as though for the first time. He had never understood why his grandparents kept saying how much she looked like him, but now he did, her eyes matched his perfectly. It felt like looking into a mirror.

"Bra honey?" Bulma rounded the corner into the baby's pink room. "What's wrong?.. Trunks?"

Her son snapped out of his trance of staring into his sister's eyes and pulled his captured finger back quickly. "What?"

"I..." Bulma was surprised to say the least. For the weeks that followed the birth of his baby sister Trunks had not spent much time at all with her, definitely not of purpose anyway. "What's happening Trunks? You came in to play with your little sister?"

"...Yeah I guess."


	2. Daddy's Girl

Bra collapsed ungracefully to the cold floor of the gravity room. The salty sweat poured from her forehead and dripped off her nose and the ends of her hair, creating a puddle where her tired head lay. It had been a hard day in the gravity room with her far more experienced father. He had cruelly set the gravity to a skull-cracking 300 times the regular earth amount, and Bra felt that it was more than her young body could take. She groaned in pain as she felt her muscles quivering under the strain of the spar.

She absolutely loved it.

"Stand up girl." Vegeta folded his arms and stood impatiently over her, tapping his finger in annoyance at the unexpected break. "I'm too nice to kick you when you're down, but that could soon change."

This was untrue of course. In fact when Bra was a good deal younger, Vegeta had a hard time hitting her at all. He supposed that it had mostly been because she looked so much like her mother, because when he found out that Bulma was pregnant with a little girl he was fully intent on training her at least as hard had he had Trunks. If not for Bra's insistent nagging as a toddler he might have never had bothered to train her as a full warrior.

However, as Trunks could barely stand 200 times gravity when he was eight while Bra was _almost_ managing 300 at seven, it seemed that she would someday become a greater fighter than her brother, or at least a more determined one.

"I'm... Trying!" The girl felt as though her head might explode as she slowly rose back to her feet. The hot sweat from her unwashed blue hair trickled from the top of her ponytail down her back. "This. Is. Difficult."

"I can see that." Vegeta smirked as she struggled to keep herself standing. "I'm surprised you could fight at all. I'm impressed."

Bra growled and attempted a punch at her fathers arm, only to have him dodge at the last second. The Saiyan princess plummeted to the floor once again. "Don't make fun of me!"

"I'm not. I'm serious."

Bra smiled, though her father couldn't see it for her face being smashed into the floor. It was often hard to tell if her father was being serious with his compliments. It had always astounded her how her human mother could always tell the difference between the two, while their two half-Saiyan children struggled with their father's odd sense of humor.

Vegeta shook his head in annoyance before trotting to the gravity control system. "I think that's enough for the day girl. Time to wash up."

"What? Noo!" She attempted to push her body up again, only to slip on her own sweat puddle and fall again awkwardly. "Come on dad, I haven't hit you once yet! I can still spar!"

A small smile graced his lips as his daughter complained from the floor. It both pleased and worried him that she displayed such a liking for fighting. When she was a small child he was concerned that he would always have to be as gentle with her as he was her mother; she looked so much like the woman after all. Instead she proved to be just as durable as her elder brother had been, and possibly even more interested in becoming a warrior.

"Like hell you can. You're a mess." The Saiyan prince pushed in the proper numbers to return the gravity to a earthling's liking. "You've fought very well today; you should rest for tomorrow."

Bra gave an irritated huff as she rose to her feet. She knew very well that her father wasn't done training yet; Vegeta would train from morning till night if Bra's mother would let him. To imply that she was too weak for such a thing annoyed her.

Peering over herself she frowned. She did look a mess. Her red gi pants were soaked and gracelessly clinging to her legs, along with her matching red work-out tube-top that was equally as filthy. Her hair was mussed and her pink-painted nails were coming off in chips that were etching into her palms. Vegeta however, hadn't even had to pull his training top off, and was still wearing his clean white gloves. It was positively infuriating.

"Dad, I'll have to start training as long as you do eventually. I have to learn to keep with up with you!"

Vegeta blinked at his daughter in surprise. He never expected that she would try keep up with him; he was an experienced warrior with years of fiery battle to season him. Bra had never even _seen_ a battle, not a real one anyway, only tournament matches and scuffles between Kakarot's youngest child and her brother. She must be extremely naive to think that she was anywhere close to matching him.

"You're extremely foolish if you believe that you can match me, girl."

"I don't see why not. I am becoming a warrior after all; that's what all this training is for right?"

He had to pause at that one. What was all this training for? Was it to make her a battle-hardened warrior, or simply so she could stand up against a new enemy that would surely arise? She didn't look much like a warrior; she wore far too much pink, not to mention frilly skirts that her mother bought her, and she almost never went without some kind of bright color painted on her stubby nails. All were things not expected to see on a warrior princess, yet there she was.

What was worse was the idea that she would have to go through what he did to get so strong. She would never live under a tyrant like Freeza, but it was undoubted that to become a true warrior she would need to go through more pain than any earthling could to come close to her father in strength. It would not be long before she will have battle-scars marring her perfectly pale skin, and have the softness in her eyes disappear only to show a cold sharpness like Vegeta's did.

He felt ill at the thought.

"Bra?"

Her ears pricked up at the use of her actual name, and not the usual title "girl". "Yes dad?"

"If you don't want to be a warrior you don't have to be one. You are under no obligation to be one simply because I am."

Bra felt her jaw drop in surprise. Was her father joking? He thought with all her Super-Saiyan might she would just _pass_ on being an kickass fighter? It might not be what most girls her age did, but she loved it none the less. The loved the feeling of her muscles growing bigger and the sensation of landing a well aimed punch into someone's face. She knew how lucky she was to have such a powerful Saiyan father, and found the idea of _not_ being smacked to the ground by her dad on a regular basis extremely boring.

"Are you kidding? Of course I want to be a warrior! I'm going to be the greatest warrior the earth has ever seen!" Giving a small _humf_ at the notion of ending her intense training sessions, she spun around and began wringing out her hair. "I hope I never gave you the idea that I wanted to stop. There's nothing else I'd rather be honestly."

Vegeta felt in equal parts deflated and proud. Despite her human-like appearance she was a true Saiyan if there ever was one. He knew that she was far too much like himself for her own good: relentless and battle hungry. The prince secretly hoped she would grow out of it like her elder brother had somehow managed. "Well then, if that's the case we'll pump it up to 3_50_ times gravity tomorrow. How does _that_ sound, girl?"

Pulling out the frilly pink scrunchie from her hair, Bra gave a tired smirk.

"Fantastic."


End file.
